


A Night to Remember

by sea_verity



Category: Original Work
Genre: College, Cussing, Drinking, F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, Threats of Violence, so much cussing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_verity/pseuds/sea_verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Caterine Jones woke up that morning, he was expecting a normal day. He was not expecting to find himself in another man's bed, hungover and sore.<br/>When that man turned out to be his arch enemy Jordan, he just gave up and fled. He'd never expected to lose his virginity while black-out drunk, nor to a man who hated him.<br/>But, it turned it he was missing more than that... try 6 months of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt putting anything I've written out there for the world. This... is fucking scary.

Early morning, before most rational people were awake without reason, was Cate’s favorite time of day. It was the time he could sit in the common room of his dorm, bowl of Kix and soy milk in his hands, and watch Animal Planet in his boxers and socks.  
So waking up at…gods, a quarter till nine according to his ever-present watch, was absolutely not his idea of a perfect morning. Add to that the Seven Dwarfs singing away and slamming their pickaxes into his brain, the stale beer taste in his mouth, and the unpleasant dried stuff stuck to his legs, and this morning was up there with the time he woke to find his little sister had shaved off his eyebrows-  
-The day before senior pictures.  
That little bitch.  
Cate groaned, then remembered his head hurt, and whimpered a lot softer. He was beginning to wish he’d never opened his eyes that morning.  
“Fuck,” he sighed. He wondered if moving was such a good idea, then he felt a hand that definitely couldn’t be his sliding up his hip.  
Yep, moving was a terrific idea.  
He began by sitting up slowly. Once the queasiness settled back down, he turned to see who he’d wound up in bed with. Which would also tell him where the fucking hell he was, because the Green Day posters were not his style.  
The wavy black hair on his bed partner was sticking up everywhere, unlike the man’s usual smooth look. Cate also knew the closed eyes were a soft hazel, because he knew the still-sleeping man pretty damn well.   
Okay, actually not that well at all. They shared the same private dorm building, Jordan on the first floor, Cate on the third. They also had the same art class, and when Jordan wasn’t insulting Cate, he could actually pass as a decent artist. Their teacher loved to pair them up on projects, knowing how much bad blood was between them.  
Cate had learned just how many shades of brown Jordan’s eyes could turn while they studied each other for portraits. He’d counted five. If there was one thing Cate would admit he liked about Jordan, it was his eyes. But, art class notwithstanding, they avoided each other, even going out of their way to avoid each other in their tiny dorm.  
The best part of the whole “relationship” was Jordan’s sullen inability to even fake politeness to Cate. Cate had tripped and split scalding coffee down Jordan’s suit on Parents’ Day freshman year, but he had apologized. Of course, that apology had involved quite a few rude comments and insults, but Cate insulted everyone. Jordan had taken it all very personally. They were juniors already, forgive and forget!  
Cate sighed again. Jordan would never forgive, and never forget. They were enemies, which was disappointing, because aside from the hate, there wasn't anything Cate particularly disliked about Jordan. Try as he might, every meeting of the two led to a fight, and Cate really didn’t understand why Jordan hated him so damn much.  
And now, apparently, they’d had sex. Thanks to one or five too many drinks, Cate couldn’t really remember the sex part, but he knew they did it, and knew who bottomed when he’d crawled over the sleeping man and out of the bed.  
His ass fucking hurt. So did his left hand. He could also feel a migraine starting to creep into his much-abused brain. And he’d cut his thigh pretty bad at some point meaning the dry stuff he’d felt earlier was blood.  
Huh. Curiouser and curiouser, as the crazy people said.  
He found his pants lying on the floor, one All Star near it, the other under the desk, but his shirt was nowhere to be found. By the time he’d gotten dressed and given up on his t-shirt, Jordan was staring at him with very dark brown eyes, and Cate had to tear his gaze away from shade number six.  
“Fuck,” Cate muttered to himself. He checked his pockets for cell phone, wallet, and keys, and picked his sunglasses up from the floor. Then he gave Jordan a glare that wouldn’t melt butter in the summer.  
“Thanks for whatever fun we had last night,” he said, keeping his tone neutral, and left the room.  
Jordan called after him, but Cate kept walking stiffly away. His own dorm room was up two flights of stairs so he headed to the kitchen for breakfast instead.  
He was surprised to see his friends already there so early on a Saturday, but it was obvious they were more surprised to see him. Mason, his best friend since birth, went back to his cereal without a word. Frankie, their friend since they’d started college, looked more worried.  
“You okay?” she asked in a soft voice.  
“Fine,” came Cate’s terse reply. “Just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t have the patience for your fucking nannying today.”  
Cate grabbed his usual fare, trying to hide the enormous headache that threatened to send him reeling if he moved too fast. As he stood at the counter eating slowly, none other than an also half-dressed, sleep tousled Jordan came in.  
“What, no cuddles today?” Jordan asked teasingly as he leaned down to kiss Cate’s cheek.  
It was like the whole world had stopped. The bowl of cereal would’ve hit the ground if Jordan hadn’t caught it and put it on the counter. A moment later, life started back up and Cate felt his legs getting weak.  
Mason soon had him by an elbow, Jordan had the other, and Frankie was checking his pulse, her hands expert and cool.  
“Babe, you okay?” Jordan asked him, worried.  
Cate rolled his eyes and felt another stab of pain in his head. This time, he gave up his brave front and whimpered. He didn’t like looking weak in front of anyone, even his friends, but the pain! Please someone just kill him, poison him, strangle him, shoot him even, just make the fucking pain stop!  
He had a moment to wonder if he’d still feel the pain if he was beheaded, and then he passed out.

 

The room was dark; that was all he noticed when he opened his eyes again. His head didn’t hurt that much, though, so he got up and turned the lights on. Looking around, he saw a bottle of medication sitting on his nightstand. It was usually in his messenger bag, so his friends must’ve gotten some migraine meds down him.  
Bless them however they did it. He didn’t care if they’d crushed it, mixed it with water and mainlined it, because his migraines were evil things sent directly from hell to make his eyes and brain implode with pain.  
And the medication made him incredibly fucking loopy.  
Not caring what time it was now, Cate went to take a shower. The blood still caked his legs under his jeans, and he wondered if it was just blood or if Jordan had used a condom.  
Under the hot stream of water massaging his neck, Cate wondered what the hell had been with Jordan earlier. Cate had walked out like the whole thing didn’t matter a bit, which was total bullshit because Cate had been a very happy virgin. Minutes later, Jordan was calling him babe and kissing his cheek like they were dating.  
Freaky.  
And confusing as hell.  
Since Jordan was the only one who could clear the whole thing up, Cate finished scrubbing off and washing his shoulder-length blue hair. Standing in front of the mirrors, Cate gave himself a good looking over. Aside from the left leg that had started bleeding again, he had a bruise on his right cheek and some hickeys on his neck. He wondered what was from Jordan and what wasn’t. If he’d lost his virginity to the man, he really hoped he hadn’t gone for a little masochism, too.  
It was bad enough to not remember having sex, but not remembering _fun_ sex? That would really suck.  
Feeling marginally better clean, thigh bandaged up, dressed in sweats and barefoot, Cate went back down to Jordan’s room. He didn’t remember going up to his own room, but figured monster-man Mason had probably carried him. Considering he couldn’t remember his first time having sex, not remembering his morning was nothing at all to him in comparison, though annoying all the same. It was almost five in the afternoon, so by now Cate was missing well over half a day.  
“Jordan?” Cate called out as he knocked on the locked door. He may be a polite Southern gentleman (trained by his Grams), but he’d first tried walking right in.  
The door swung open, and after a silent moment, Jordan seemed to let out a sigh of relief and hugged Cate tightly.  
“Fuck, you had me worried. Mace said you’d be out all day!”  
“Yeah, just a migraine. Usual for me. Lemme go,” Cate told him, wondering when the man had gotten on a nickname basis with _Cate’s_ best friend.  
Jordan let go and backed away. He looked upset, and Cate had the urge to sooth him. He fought that urge with every drugged-up brain cell and glared weakly at the man in front of him.  
“Babe, what’s wrong?”  
“Why the fuck are you calling me that?!” snarled Cate. While his evil looks were weak, his voice was a well-trained weapon.  
“What do you mean? I always call you that.”  
“Always? Since when did ‘always’ fucking start?! Fuck, we had sex last night, not got married!” Cate exclaimed. He crossed his arms and refused to admit to himself that he was pouting. Everything he said made Jordan look more upset and hurt.  
“Babe-“  
**“Don’t fucking call me that!”**  
“Hey, boys, knock off the lovers’ spat in the hallway,” a laughing voice said.  
Cate snarled something very ungentlemanly at Frankie as she walked towards them. It stopped her in her tracks.  
“Damn, I thought those meds made you happy-high, Caterine,” Frankie said nervously. She walked up and placed a hand on her friend’s forehead, then checked his pulse again. “You should be in bed still.”  
“No. Not until I figure out what the fuck is going on, why the HELL I got fucked by a man who treats me like shit, and why he keeps calling me ‘babe’!” Cate shouted, sounding a little hysterical even to himself. He took a few deep, calming breaths, and fought back a few tears.  
“Cate, what’s the last thing you remember? Before this morning, I mean,” asked Frankie, her voice suddenly becoming professional medical student, top of her class.  
Cate thought a moment, and carefully kept his eyes off Jordan. “Art class yesterday, I think. We started collages. Yeah…I…” Cate trailed off. He tipped his head forward to look at the fading blue hair. “I have pink hair. I had pink hair. When the fuck did I dye it?” he half-asked, half-mumbled, more confused than ever. Something seemed very wrong, suddenly.  
“Last month,” Jordan said, suddenly speaking up. “You dyed it last month, said you were feeling more blueberry than grapefruit lately. And we did collages last semester.”


End file.
